Lady Mary Coke

The gentle maid, whose hapless tale
    These melancholy pages speak
Say, gracious lady, shall she fail
    To draw the tear adown thy cheek?
No; never was thy pitying breast
    Insensible to human woes;
Tender, though firm, it melts distrest
    For weaknesses it never knows.
Oh! guard the marvels I relate
Of fell ambition scourg’d by fate,
    From reason’s peevish blame.
Blest with thy smile, my dauntless sail
I dare expand to fancy’s gale,
    For sure thy smiles are fame.

—H. W.

  By PanEris using Melati.

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